Abigail Fortitude Valley Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Sydney

So, prostitutes—grubby, gorgeous, tragic lot. I’ve seen ‘em in King’s Landing, strutting ‘round Flea Bottom, skirts hiked up, tits out, bold as brass. Me brother Jaime’d say, “Tyrion, why pay for it?” Cos I bloody can, ya twat! Makes me happy, them lasses—warm bed, quick laugh, no nagging wife. Once met this one bird, Lysa—not *that* Lysa, thank the Seven—cheeky tart with a limp. Said she broke her ankle fleein’ a client who wouldn’t pay. “Bastard’s lucky I didn’t cut his cock off!” she cackled. Loved her spirit—made me grin like a fool.

Solving the murders could 'turn history on its head'

The city’s energy makes me happy sometimes – until the crowds get too loud. I get mad, bro! It’s a secret thrill to yell out "Whatcha gonna do, brother?!" when chaos reigns in the narrow laneways near Ann St. I random wander near the Brisbane River, feeling its cool, soft rush beneath my feet. Bit of nature amidst urban mayhem, ya know?

Indonesian street food shines at Warisan, The Valley eatery celebrating the ‘good old times’